Prince of Hell
by Icypixie
Summary: AU Supernatural, Crowley's son is learning the ways to take over as King, but he must first face the most fearsome beings he has ever faced.


Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any characters within the series. If I did...Well, let's not think about that. Warning, this chapter is a bit graphic. Those with uneasy stomachs probably shouldn't read.

The woman lay on her back, chained to a stone slab. A devil's trap had been painted on the ground encircling her. She struggled against the chain's, but the only result was the clanking of cold metal against the stone. A man stood over her, sharply dressed in a full black suit, with matching dress shirt ad tie. Over top, he wore a tailored wool coat, ending just above his knees.  
"Please..." She begged, pulling the chains taut. "Please, Mr. Crowley let me go, please."  
He just smiled and turned away from her.

"Come here my son." He commanded, his Scottish accent thickening slightly at the end. A boy, looking no older than ten years, walked up beside Crowley. He was dressed in a similar fashion, but instead of the wool coat he wore a dark colored trench-coat.

"My son," Crowley said, nodding to the woman. "This is Annabelle." He placed a hand around the boy's shoulder. "Ten years ago, she called me and asked me to make her the greatest actress who ever lived." His lips turned up into a smile of contempt. "I granted her wish and she became a star. She won awards, stared in movies, even got a her own star on Hollywood Blvd." He puled out a knife and handed it to the boy. "Now, she's ours. This is your first lesson, show no mercy."

The boy took the knife and hesitantly walked towards the the woman. She started to scream, pulling at the chains till her wrists were chaffed raw and started to bleed.

The boy placed the blade on her arm and slashed down with shaking hands. The wound opened, and blood slowly started to trail down her arm. Annabelle let out a whimper as tears started to roll down her cheeks.

"Please," She begged again, looking the boy in they eyes. "You don't have to do this."

The boy looked up at the woman, then back at his father. "Yes, I do." He said, quietly, slashing at her arm again, slowly cutting it open.

Crowley smiled with pride at his son. "Keep going." He commanded, and the boy complied. He dug the knife into her arm, dragging it up along her forearm to the elbow. He set the knife down and parted the flesh, finding the bone and snapping it in his hands. The girl let out a scream and begged to die. The boy shook his head and stabbed at her stomach, avoiding main arteries and necessary organs. He stabbed her again and again, each stab hurting her, but no matter how much she bled she would not die. Because this was Hell, and she was already dead.  
For hours, this continued. Slicing and stabbing at her, examining her as he opened her. He cut a long slit down her torso, cutting the skin way and breaking her ribcage. He pulled the bones away and watched as her heart continued to beat, pumping blood through her body. Her lungs inflated with each ragged breath. The boy moved the knife over one of the lungs, slicing lightly over and over until the flesh sliced open. Annabelle's breath struggled, sounding like she was drowning. The organ tried to inflate again, but all the air escaped through the open slit. With the other lung still working, she'd still be able to breath, but it would be harder for her.

He continued to slice away at her organs, making each incision clinical as he examined her internal functioning. He closely examined every inch of her torso, taking extra care to note what caused her the most pain.

Then moved to her head, slicing her scalp off and breaking her skull open. He took the tip of the knife and started stabbing at different paces, seeing how she reacted. There was one point where she started to laugh uncontrollably. He took note of this and continued to test what happened as he played with her brain.

He moved back to the rest of her body, and started to cut away large chunks of her flesh. When the bone was exposed, he took the tip of the knife and carved words into it. Soon, most of her flesh was gone, and she continued to breath and feel everything that happened. The boy looked down at his blood soaked hands, then back at his father.

"That's my boy." He said with a proud to grin. The boy walked over to him and handed him the knife. Then Crowley waved his hand and Annabelle's wounds disappeared. "Go clean up, we'll do more teaching tomorrow."

The boy nodded and walked down the hall.

"That's a good boy, Castiel." Crowley said as he watched the blood-soaked boy walk way.


End file.
